


Making a Good Apple Pie

by altoinkblots



Series: Hugs Heal the Wounds Tears Leave Behind [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Male Character, Baking, Bisexual Female Character, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, No Proofreading We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altoinkblots/pseuds/altoinkblots
Summary: Ed asks Winry to make him a sweater, and she jokingly says he has to pay her for it. Cue Ed roping in his friends to make four apple pies for Winry and this sweater.
Relationships: Edward Elric & Lan Fan, Edward Elric & Ling Yao, Edward Elric & Rosé Thomas, Edward Elric & Winry Rockbell, Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Izumi Curtis & Edward Elric, Lan Fan/Ling Yao
Series: Hugs Heal the Wounds Tears Leave Behind [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680922
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Making a Good Apple Pie

**Author's Note:**

> This has a panic attack right at the end, so if you don't want to read that feel free to skip that portion. Otherwise, enjoy!!

Ed walked up to Winry and sat down, plopping his feet on her lap. It had taken longer than it should have to find her, considering she was in one of their usual hang-out spots: the small, abandoned café in the Fine Arts building.

Winry rolled her eyes and continued knitting. “Hello, Edward,” she said, shifting her knees to move his feet off of her lap. “You were covering my yarn.”

Ed changed his seating arrangement to sit across from her at the table. “What are you knitting, pray tell?”

“A sweater.”

Ed raised his eyebrows. “And who is going to wear this sweater?”

“Rosé. Now shut up, this is a hard pattern.”

Ed slunk in his chair, watching her work. There was a considerable mass of the already-knitted teal sweater on her lap, but she kept going, pulling the strand of yarn along as her needles clicked together. He chewed the side of his lip. The one time he was in the mood to sit and talk to Winry for a while, she was knitting. It was impressive, how she could focus so completely on something with her eyebrows scrunched together, her tongue poking out, and her hair tied completely back. Occasionally she would mutter, unravel it a few stitches, and fix whatever minute mistake she made. Ed never noticed them; he didn’t think she could make mistakes with all of her attention focused so completely on what she was doing. 

Eventually he pulled out his laptop and notebook. He had a lab report that he had, unfortunately, left for the last minute; and the professor hated technology so everything was hand-written and on hard pieces of paper. He pulled his notes up on his laptop and started writing, the pen shaking ever so slightly in his left hand. 

Winry kicked him in the shin to get his attention. He looked up from writing his lab report. She pointed at his hand with her needle. “What’s the deal with that? You write like you’re never sure what to do with your hand.”

Ed tried to twirl the pen in between his fingers, but he flung it across the room instead. With a groan he got up, retrieved the pen, and sat back down. 

“Like, if you don’t want to answer that’s fine, but you don’t seem like a leftie to me.”

“I’m not,” said Ed. “I was a stupid kid and got into too many fights, and I broke my right hand enough times that I can’t write with it. I can do other things, but writing is off the table.”

“That sounds just like you.”

Ed grinned. “How’s the sweater coming along?”

Winry held it up. “I think I’m almost done with it. You remember when we went to Fallbridge earlier in the month?”

Ed nodded, splitting his attention between Winry and his lab report. 

“Well, Rosé and I got talking, and I realized that mechanical engineering isn’t my thing. Actually, I realized that before I met Rosé, but talking to her helped solidify that. 

“So now I’m making sweaters. I haven’t knitted since my freshman year of high school, but this isn’t turning out too bad.”

“So you’re giving that to Rosé as a kind of thank you?”

Winry’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. Ed wouldn’t have even noticed it if the lights in the café didn’t bounce off the black walls, over-illuminating everything.

“Yeah,” she said. 

Ed shrugged. “Okay.” He turned back to his lab report. In his peripheral vision, he saw Winry open her mouth a few times to speak, but she eventually continued knitting the sweater. Ed put the pen down and stretched out his hands. “Is that the only sweater you’re planning on making?”

Winry looked up at him. He rotated his wrist around, flexing his fingers. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Could you make me one? I’ll pay you and everything.”

Winry squinted. “Why do you want a sweater? You wear that same red coat almost every day.”

“If you haven’t noticed by now, Winry, it is November. And it usually starts snowing by the end of the month or the beginning of December, and it would be really nice to have a sweater to curl up in.”

Winry lifted her chin. “What would you pay me?”

“How much would it be worth?” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. Winry mirrored his pose, putting the unfinished sweater on her lap. “Twenty bucks.”

“Deal.”

“Are you going to pay me now, or…?”

“Depends. Are you actually going to make it?”

“What color do you want?”

“I think a nice purple could suit me. Stay in the red family, but start going to more winter-like colors.”

Winry leaned back and took the knitting up again. “We’ll see,” she said, leaving it at that.

When they had both finished their respective tasks, Winry eventually putting aside the sweater to work on her own homework, they walked over to Ed’s dorm and parted with a quick hug. Winry waved at him as she walked back to her own apartment. Ed unlocked the door and slammed it behind him. 

Ling was lounging on his bed, eating a plate of hot pockets. 

“I need help,” said Ed.

Ling immediately sat up and shoved a full, steaming hot pocket into his mouth. “What do you need,” he said. 

“Winry’s going to make me a sweater and I need to find twenty dollars’ worth of something to give her.”

Ling grinned. “When is she going to be done with the sweater?”

“I have no idea.”

Ling leaned back into his pillows. “I got you covered, roomie.”

“No one… No one actually says that anymore.”

“Good for them.”

Ed rolled his eyes. 

The next day he found himself at the farmer’s market, squeezed between Ling and his kind of creepy girlfriend, Lan Fan. She was a nice person, Ed was sure, but she kept giving him this  _ look _ that sent shivers down his spine. 

“Last one of the season!” Ling said with his hands on his hips. “It’s a good thing Lan Fan has an in, otherwise we wouldn’t have gotten in.”

“How the hell did we even get in?” Ed asked. “I’m pretty sure we just appeared here.”

Ling winked. “As far as you know. All right, Edward, lead the way.”

Ed nodded, looking around. It had been a hot second since he had been at a farmer’s market, so he was a little out of his depth.

He started wandering around, stopping at every single stall to ask the person about what they were selling. There was raw honey, a million different varieties of squash, a plethora of jams, an overabundance of jellies, a flood of dried fruit, and many different types of apples. At some point, Ed found Ling shoveling something from every stand into his mouth, saying something about his blood sugar content. Ed rolled his eyes and continued wandering around the market by himself, Lan Fan keeping an eye on her boyfriend.

Time and time again, Ed found himself drawn to the apples. The apple cider samples at the stall were good, and the apples were just  _ lying _ there, in the baskets; ranging from yellow to green to pink to red. Ed stood in front of the stall with his arms crossed. 

Apples went with sweaters, right? That was the quintessential autumn experience, drinking apple cider in a warm sweater while eating apple pie. Autumn was almost over, and Winry deserved a good afternoon with sweaters, apple cider, and apple pie. 

Ed bought a jug of apple cider and a basket of green apples, remembering that Izumi always used green apples for her pies. He walked over to where Ling and Lan Fan sat, struggling to hold the basket and the jug at the same time. Without a word, Ling grabbed the apple cider and Lan Fan took one handle of the basket. 

“That’s a lot of apples,” he said.

Ed shrugged. “This is what I’m paying for the sweater with.”

“You’re going to give her apple cider and three dozen apples?”

“No, I’m going to make a pie with the apples and give her what’s left over.”

Lan Fan rolled her eyes. 

Ed turned to her, his eyes narrowed. “What was that for?”

Her and Ling shared a look. “Nothing,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ed opened his mouth to speak, but closed it almost immediately. He wanted to respond, but felt he was a little out of his depth.

“Do you even know how to make apple pie?” asked Ling.

“You’ve met Izumi. You think I  _ don’t  _ know how to cook?”

Ling shuddered. “Good point.That woman is terrifying.”

“Who?” asked Lan Fan.

“My mom,” said Ed. “She’s the kind of person to throw her shoe at you if you don’t get started on your chores right away.”

“She sounds wonderful,” said Lan Fan, completely seriously.

“She really is.”

They loaded the apples and jug of apple cider into the backseat Ling’s electric green car. They drove back to campus, and brought the apples and jug of cider into Ed and Ling’s dorm. Ed stood in their shared kitchen, then pulled out his phone and called Izumi. 

_ “Hello?” _ she said, her voice weaker than normal.

“Hey, Izumi. It’s Ed.”

_ “You never call. Is everything okay?” _

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I actually have a question to ask you.”

_ “After three months of not hearing from you, you call to ask something? That’s very you.” _

Ed grinned. “Sorry, Izumi. I should ask how you’re doing.”

_ “Don’t worry about me. What do you need?” _

Ed explained his friendship to Winry, telling Izumi the story of how they met and some of the more sensitive conversations they’ve had. Izumi was the woman who raised him, and while she did have the annoying habit of throwing her shoes, she was still a loving, kind woman who had taken two little boys into her home and raised them as best as she could. For all intents and purposes, she was his mom, and he was grateful to have had two mothers in his life. He could also trust her not to spread sensitive information around, one of the reasons he told her about Winry’s parents. If he had been talking to anyone else, he wouldn’t have mentioned it.

She continued to listen as Ed told her about the sweater Winry might make him, and how he wanted to make her an apple pie as her commission payment.

_ “How many apples did you buy again?” _

Ed looked over at the basket of apples sitting on the couch. Their kitchen was little more than a corner in the living room, but it was better than nothing. “I dunno… Twenty? Thirty?”

She sighed.  _ “You don’t do anything by halves, do you. What color are they?” _

“Green.”

_ “That’s good, at least.”  _ She groaned on the other side of the line as she stood up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Ed.

_ “I’m fine,” _ she snapped. Ed waited patiently as Izumi rifled around for several minutes.  _ “Okay, I have the recipe. Do you have something to write with?” _

“Yeah.” Ed grabbed the nearest notebook and pencil, putting Izumi on speakerphone. He carefully wrote down the instructions she gave, taking extra care to make his handwriting legible. 

_ “And if you have anywhere between twenty to thirty apples that will get you between three to five pies, so plan accordingly.” _

Ed whistled. “That is a lot of pies. Thanks, Izumi. Are Al and I still good to come down for All Souls Feast?”

_ “Who the hell do you think you are? You had better spend All Souls Feast with us or I will come up to Central and bring you down here to Dublith myself. All Souls Feast is a time for family, damn it, and I will see you boys there!” _ She coughed for several seconds.  _ “And see if Winry wants to come down.” _

“Yeah, I’ll ask her, but she might already have plans.”

_ “At least make an effort, Ed. Sig will be up there to pick you boys up on the twenty-fifth and drop you off on the thirtieth, so let me know if Winry’s coming before then.” _

“Will do. See you then.”

_ “I love you.” _

“Love you too. Bye.”

_ “Bye.” _

Ed turned his phone off and stared at his recipe, then at the kitchen, then back at his recipe, then at the time on the oven, then back at the recipe. 

“Hey, Ling!” he called out.

“What?” his roommate responded, his voice muffled by a door. 

“You wanna make some pies tomorrow?”

“Sure, why not?”

“And  _ don’t _ eat the filling!”

“Why eat the filling when I can have a perfectly good pie!”

Ed ground his teeth together. He read the recipe over one more time, and brought the apples over into the kitchen. He counted them out -- twenty-seven apples -- and did some quick multiplying in his head to see how much of everything he would need. He whistled. It was going to take all day. 

With Ling’s permission, he grabbed his car and drove over to the nearest supermarket, and bought everything he would need: pans, sugar, butter, cinnamon, and flour. A lot of flour. He even texted Rosé to see if she would help, which she responded to with a lot of enthusiastic emojis. 

On Pie Day, Ling, Lan Fan, Rosé, and Ed all crowded in the kitchen. Rosé was wearing the teal sweater Winry had been making for her, and Ed had to admit it was really well made. Ed set aside three apples, and let his friends loose in the kitchen.

Ling and Rosé peeled and sliced the apples, using the peelers Rosé borrowed from a friend of hers while Lan Fan and Ed started on the crust. Loud music played in the background as the four of them joked and talked and laughed. At one point a flour war started, and at the end of just a few seconds Ed and Rosé were covered from head to toe in white flour, while Ling and Lan Fan didn’t have so much as a speck. 

Rosé made the filling, Lan Fan took out the trash, and Ling and Ed put the bottom crust into the pie dishes. Rosé showed them a trick to keep the pie crust from bubbling up while it was in the oven: using a fork and pushing down the sides and bottom in a few places. 

Lan Fan came back with two six-packs of root beer just as they were putting the first pie into the oven. It was a small oven, so they couldn’t fit more than one in there, but they still had three more pies to get oven-ready. 

Ling snacked on an apple and took over the playlist. Classic songs came on that everybody had to sing to, and they almost missed the oven ringing to take the first pie out. Besides that, pie number two went into the oven without incident, and Ed sprinkled cinnamon sugar on top of the cooling pie. Rosé pinched the two different crusts together to create the rim around the pie, showing Lan Fan how to position her thumbs and pointer fingers to get the best and crunchiest crust. Ed grabbed a can of root beer and almost drank it in a single gulp.

Pie three replaced pie two in the oven, and just like the first, Ed sprinkled cinnamon sugar on top of it. He leaned up against the counter, the heat from the pies warming his back. He was glad to have all of his friends in one place, minus Al and Winry. He almost wished she was here, joking and laughing with the rest of them.  _ You should have invited her,  _ a voice in his head whispered.  _ She would love to be here _ .

Ed pushed off of the counter and went to his room, sitting on his bed. He pulled out his phone and typed out a text, erased it, typed another one out, and erased that one too. With a groan he flopped back onto his bed and started fiddling with the knee in his prosthetic leg. Finally, he typed out a simple  _ you busy today??? _ and sent it. 

His phone buzzed almost immediately after he sent it.  _ Not much. You?? _

_ I’m making some pies with friends. You wanna come over?? _

_ Sure!! I’ll see you in about twenty minutes!! _

_ k _

Ed turned his phone off and tossed it to the end of his bed. He could still hear Ling, Lan Fan, and Rosé in the kitchen, laughing over something. 

It wasn’t fair to Winry that Ed forgot to invite her. Yes, this whole thing was to repay Winry for making him a sweater, but he didn’t like that they were doing those things apart. Not that it was bad that they were doing those things apart, but he genuinely liked spending time with her. Not just spending time with her; talking to her, hearing her laugh, being there for her when she needed him the most. 

He popped his knee in and out and rested his hand on his stomach. His brain swirled with thoughts of Winry. What if she didn’t like the pies? 

His brain got to the point where it got too loud, too quickly. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to block out everything to try and get his brain to quiet down. It wasn’t just Winry, now, it was anything and everything all at once and his ears were ringing and his breath was constricted and he couldn’t think, it was too loud, too much. 

Flashes of his conversation with the alchemist from Fallbridge started going on in a never-ending loop, the man’s bespeckled golden eyes swirling around and Izumi’s voice filled the few empty cracks in his head from their latest conversation. He squeezed his eyes as chills raced down his spine and to the ends of both of his feet.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. His hands were hurting his eyes but he was frozen in place, wave after wave of debilitating fear crashing over him and drowning him.

As if from miles away and in a fishbowl, he heard warbled, out-of-distortion voices talking out in the kitchen. 

His heart beat against his chest, filling his ears and burying the thoughts in his overactive mind until all he was was an overactive, irregular heartbeat and he couldn’t think and his nails dug into his forehead and his eyes felt like they were going to pop out of the other side of his skull and tears leaked out down the side of his face and he was drowning, drowning, drowning, and his left leg burned with the weight of a hundred pounds of steel and as if a pinpoint of light burst through the darkness he heard Winry’s voice saying his name.

She pulled his hands away from his face and held them, sitting on his mattress so it dipped in her direction. She kept whispering his name and holding his hands, her thumb rubbing across his knuckles. Slowly, as if an eternity and a half passed, his thoughts slowed and his breathing leveled out. Finally, his heart calmed down enough for him to open his eyes. 

He couldn’t see her face right away. She was backlit by the ceiling lights and spots danced in his vision. He sat up, bringing his right leg up to him. 

“Welcome back,” she said in a soft voice with a soft smile. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice shaking. “Thanks for… thanks for showing up.”

“You’re my friend, of course I’d show up,” she said. “If I had your sweater finished I’d totally give it to you right now.”

Ed stared at his hands, gripped in Winry’s. “Can I have a hug?” he whispered.

Winry wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in her neck, holding onto her for dear life. Even though the worst of it was over, his hands still shook. Winry held onto him even tighter. Her hand came to rest at the back of his head, her lithe fingers resting just above his braid. “I’ve got you,” she said.

Ed held onto her. For how long, he didn’t know, but he was the one to break the hug and wipe the dried tears from his face. “I think I’m good now. Sorry that you had to see that; I haven’t had one that bad in a while.”

Winry stood up and held her hand out to him. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. Ed took it and she hauled him to his feet. “You pulled me out of the pits of hell after my parents died. It’s the least I could do.”

Ed rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you want some pie?” he asked. 

Winry grinned. “Yeah, I saw that you guys had made four of them. Rosé also mentioned that they’re in exchange for the sweater I’m making you?”

Ed nodded sheepishly.

“I didn’t think you’d take me seriously when I said it was twenty bucks,” she continued. “I was going to make you one anyway.”

Ed’s stomach twisted itself into knots. 

“Good thing apple’s my favorite! Come on,” she said, pulling Ed behind her. They emerged in the kitchen, only to see Ling, Lan Fan, and Rosé had already broken into one of the pies and were eating slices of it. Winry stopped, her hands on her hips, Ed standing behind her. “I thought those were my pies,” she said, lifting her chin in the air.

“Well, we made them,” Rosé said with a smirk and holding a plate out. Winry took it, and handed it to Ed. She grabbed the entire pie and a fork, sitting down in the living room and taking a forkful from the middle. Ed grinned and sat down next to her. 

“It’s my mom’s recipe,” he said. Ling tossed him a fork and he caught it. “Izumi’s, I mean. Adopted mom.”

Winry’s eyes widened. “Holy crap this is good. Do you think she’d give me the recipe?”

Ed glanced around at his other friends. “I think so,” he said, not wanting to embarrass her nor anyone else by inviting her to All Souls Feast at the Curtis household right then and there. That would come later. For now, this was good. 

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification: All Souls Feast is the Amestrian version of Thanksgiving, there mostly because I love the Tropes; also, Amestris? Souls? I'll let myself out. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and make sure to leave a comment/kudos!!


End file.
